


Day 22: Making S'mores ft. Klance

by Pippiuscattius



Series: Pippi's Holiday Shipping Challenge [22]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 25 Day Holiday OTP Challenge, Accidental Cuddling, Baking, But it's fine Keith is here to help, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas baking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, S'mores, There's a lil bit of angsty Lance in this, bonding moment, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 20:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13107936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pippiuscattius/pseuds/Pippiuscattius
Summary: Lance visits Keith late one night insisting that he join him in making "space s'mores" to celebrate Christmas. Despite it being one A.M. and having little interest in celebrating the holiday since leaving earth, Keith decides to humor Lance. Food shenanigans ensue.(Part of my 25 Day Holiday OTP challenge. Will feature multiple ships from multiple fandoms. These will all be quickly-written, silly drabbles so please don't judge them too harshly. UwU)





	Day 22: Making S'mores ft. Klance

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh I've never tried writing for Voltron before so plz dun sue me if there's any OOC-ness. >o<
> 
> Another important note: I'm not fully caught up on Voltron (I've yet to watch season 4), so any inconsistencies are likely due to that.

“Keith. _Keeeeiiiiith._ ”

The resting paladin pointedly ignored Lance hissing out his name. Currently, he was curled up in his bunk trying his very best to chase a good night’s sleep. With the light spilling in from the open door of his room and Lance’s insistent whispers, that chance of decent rest was getting farther and farther away.

Maybe if he just…pretended he was asleep for long enough, Lance would leave.

“Keith,” Lance impatiently murmured. “I saw your eyes earlier, buddy. They were wide open. C’mon!”

Groaning and giving up, Keith forced himself to sit up in bed, rubbing his eyes to adjust to the incandescent lighting streaming in from the hallway. If he was lucky, whatever Lance wanted wouldn’t take long and leave him with enough time to get a few hours of shut-eye.

“What?” Keith grunted in annoyance.

“Oh. Good, you’re…actually awake,” Lance seemed almost surprised. “I wasn’t actually sure if you were asleep or not. Do Galra sleep with their eyes open? Er, half-Galra? Sorry, anyways…”

Seating himself on the foot of Keith’s bed, Lance clapped his hands together and assumed a business-like pose. Great, that definitely meant he had something big in mind for the evening. So much for sleep.

“So, Keith,” Lance started out casually. “How would you like to make some space s’mores?”

There was no way Keith had heard that right. “Um…what…are you talking about?”

“Space s’mores!” Lance insisted, as though it was a totally normal conversation topic for one A.M. in the freakin’ morning. “I may have raided the food stores, and I found some stuff that looks an awful lot like space chocolate, space graham crackers, and space marshmallows.”

“You know putting the word ‘space’ in front of everything doesn’t automatically make any of it an alien version of stuff from earth, right?”

“Well, for the purposes of this task, it does!” Lance dismissed. “So, whaddaya say? Space s’mores?” He held out his palms and did jazz hands right in Keith’s sleep-deprived face.

Reaching up and slowly lowering Lance’s excitedly vibrating hands, Keith stared his bedroom intruder down. “Why are you trying to make s’mores at one A.M. in the morning?”

Smirking proudly to himself, Lance crossed his arms and grinned. “Because, I’m the first one on this whole castle to figure out that it’s Christmas!”

Christmas…that was a word Keith hadn’t heard in a long time. Holidays, especially those belonging to a planet you left behind, were rendered largely unimportant in the grand scheme of defending the universe. If anything, Christmas would serve as a sore reminder of how much each human paladin on the ship missed their home planet.

Trying to rub more stray sleep out of his eye, Keith asked, “How do you even know it’s Christmas?”

“Been doin’ some research,” Lance said as though that was something he did all the time, which it definitely wasn’t. “Found an earth calendar. Synchronized it to how long we’ve been in space, and…turns out, it’s December twenty-second!”

“So not quite Christmas.”

“But close enough!” Lance confidently disregarded.

Sighing tiredly, Keith wondered if he could shift this burden onto another paladin for the evening. It wasn’t that he was opposed to making s’mores with Lance on principle; it’s just that doing so at an unholy hour of the morning did not appeal to him in the slightest.

“Why don’t you do this with…I dunno, Hunk?” Keith suggested. “He’s the foodie around here.”

“Okay, as much as I’d love to do this with Hunk, he’d probably try to make them gourmet s’mores or something and make a big deal out of it.” Lance shook his head defiantly. “I love Hunk’s cooking, but right now I just want some good old-fashioned space s’mores, nothin’ fancy.”

“What about Pidge?”

“I tried asking her already, but I found her sitting awake in bed on her computer doing some late-night…coding, or whatever geeks do. So I left her alone.”

Okay, Keith could understand that one. Every paladin of Voltron knew better than to interrupt Pidge when she was in the middle of a project on her computer, or else you would have a very angry small green child on your hands.

“And Shiro?” Keith tried again.

“He’s off doing some training thing with Allura.”

That left only one other option. “Um…Coran?”

“Coran is fun, but I dunno if I’d wanna make s’mores with the guy.” Donning his best version of a pleading face, complete with practiced trembling lip, Lance leaned way too far into Keith’s personal space. “Please, Keith, this is kind of important! Just make some space s’mores with me!”

Jeez, if Lance was begging, this must really be important to him. “Okay, first of all, I don’t see what s’mores have to do with Christmas.”

“ _Space_ s’mores!” Lance corrected.

Gathering his dwindling patience, Keith repeated, “Space…s’mores…and second of all, why can’t you just do this on your own if you’re so insistent on it being at one A.M.?”

Falling back and huffing a sigh, Lance turned suddenly serious. “Okay, look…back on earth, my family had this tradition…we had a firepit in our backyard, and every December, we would go out there and make s’mores whenever we felt like it. It was how we prepared for Christmas. I just…wanted to be able to do that again, alright? And I don’t think it’d be the same if I was alone.”

Keith’s purplish eyes widened as he listened. Sympathy swirled in his chest as the implications of Lance’s explanation hit him. Despite the confident, suave demeanor Lance tried his very hardest to project, surely he missed his home and family. If this was his way of trying to reconnect with them while still being lightyears away, who was Keith to deny him?

Resolve cracking as he watched the weight pressing on Lance’s shoulders, Keith conceded, “Alright, fine, I’ll…make ‘space s’mores’ with you.”

Lance’s eyes brightened and he perked up, back to his old self. “Aw, thanks buddy! C’mon, let’s get to the space kitchen!”

“It’s just a kitchen,” Keith corrected him, but he allowed Lance to grab him by the wrist and drag him out of bed, grabbing his red jacket from a hook by the door as he stumbled through it.

The castle was quiet at this hour, with everyone else being in their rooms save for Allura and Shiro. Though it went against his every instinct, Keith allowed Lance to continue pulling him through the hallways towards the kitchen. He could stand to put up with Lance’s shenanigans, even at this hour, if it meant he was able to ease some of the weight of being away from home.

When they arrived in the kitchen, Lance released Keith and made a mad dash to one of the counters in the middle of the room. Sure enough, he had some items gathered there that looked an awful lot like chocolate bars, a box of graham crackers, and a bag of marshmallows.

“Alright, so this is what we’ve got to work with,” Lance announced, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Let’s get to roasting!”

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Keith asked as he joined Lance beside the counter. “Last I checked, the castle doesn’t have a place where we can just set a fire.”

“We’re not setting a fire,” Lance corrected. “Don’t get too trigger happy just ‘cause that’s your lion’s element.” Turning around and sweeping a hand in the direction of the wall of appliances, he said, “We’re making indoor space s’mores! In the oven.”

Quirking an unamused eyebrow, Keith asked, “Do you know how to use an Altean oven?”

“Totally. I’ve seen Hunk use it before, how hard could it be?”

It turned out to actually be quite hard, as the interface was written entirely in the Altean language. The two spent ten minutes experimenting until they figured out which dial was for temperature, and another five minutes figuring out which markings on the dial correlated to what temperature. It was a minor miracle that the two managed to work together without getting into any arguments, though that was partially due to the fact that Keith was just too tired to bother.

When it came to actually getting out and assembling the ingredients, Keith started to have a few qualms. For starters, the graham crackers, or whatever they really were, were a dark brown color and had a soft gooey texture with a consistency similar to gum. The “chocolate” was rock-hard, but he supposed it could melt enough to be edible in the oven’s heat, and additionally, it was orange. Perhaps most worrying of all were the marshmallows, which came in a multitude of rainbow colors and oozed a sparkly, sticky liquid when squeezed.

“I’m not sure these are actually s’more ingredients,” Keith fretted as he experimentally squeezed a bright blue marshmallow.

“You’re right, they’re not,” Lance coolly replied. “They’re _space_ s’more ingredients. We’re pioneering a whole new kind of food here!”

Too tired to object, Keith just shoved the leaking “marshmallow” between two “crackers” and a block of “chocolate.” Yeah, with that many quotation marks, this couldn’t possibly go wrong at all.

The two paladins assembled a total of six colorful s’mores, placing them on a tray Lance managed to find in one of the storage containers. Having already gone through the trouble of pre-heating the oven, Lance went right ahead and shoved the tray onto one of the racks, closing the door behind it and staring into the oven’s depths.

“I’m guessing I don’t have a choice but to eat whatever we end up with, right?” Keith joined Lance in front of the oven, warily eyeing the alien treats.

“At least half of ‘em,” Lance decided. “You made three, I made three. It’s only fair.”

“Yeah, well, if they end up tasting awful, I’m not eating any more than one bite.”

“We’ll see about that,” Lance smirked in his direction. That smirk fell somewhat and his eyes turned earnest as he looked directly at Keith. “But uh, whether they turn out good or not…th-thanks, I guess, for humoring me on this. This really is an important tradition to me, so…”

Not sure what to say, particularly with Lance being so unusually emotional, Keith just coughed into his fist and muttered, “Yeah, don’t mention it…”

Somewhat of an awkward silence descended as they continued to watch their space s’mores cooking in the oven. There was a strange tension in the air, one that had sometimes presented itself briefly in their prior shared moments, but that was always shoved aside by some other impending matter. This time however, there was no sudden impending matter, and that left them to each stew in the tension.

Something on the oven let out a crisp “ding” before either of them could work up the nerve to comment on whatever air it was that had descended. Hastily opening the door, Lance donned an oven mitt and pulled out the tray of s’mores. The end result of their culinary experimentation was not quite what they’d anticipated.

The “marshmallows” had completely melted into their glittery, liquid insides, coating the other ingredients. The “crackers” had lost much of their shape, turning gooey and soft and turning in on themselves. As for the “chocolate,” well, it hadn’t changed shape, but it was now a blinding, bright red.

It looked more like the final product of a little girl’s art project gone wrong than something edible. Someone who hadn’t been aware of what Lance and Keith had been trying to make would’ve never guessed they were s’mores.

Recoiling and staring at the sparkly, colorful treats, Keith intoned, “I am _not_ eating that.”

“Aw, c’mon, you said just a bite!” Lance countered, shedding the oven mitt and reaching down to take one of the s’mores. “Here, I’ll even try it first.”

And try it first he did, abruptly shoving the sparkly amalgamation into his mouth. His face twisted in surprise as his jaw worked to chew it. It took a full minute of chewing before he was able to swallow and speak again, and when he did, he caught Keith way off guard.

“Dude, you have to try these!” Lance exclaimed. “They’re not like s’mores, but they’re…they’re…” He clenched his fists and looked up in excitement. “They’re like a whole new thing! It’s delicious!”

Giving the tray another disdainful look, Keith denied, “No way, not happening. It looks like they’re drenched in glitter glue.”

“The glitter is for texture!” Lance insisted. “Here, look, try one!”

Swiping another s’more, this one a deep purple in color, Lance advanced towards Keith, menacingly holding out the treat in front of him.

“It’s- I-I’m not-” Keith tried to refuse, stumbling back, but he ended up stumbling back right into the counter.

The red paladin slipped and reached out to grasp for purchase, but all he ended up grabbing was the collar of Lance’s shirt. Both paladins ended up tumbling down on top of each other on the kitchen floor, Lance collapsing on top of Keith but still triumphantly holding the s’more up above them.

Rubbing at the back of his head and coming back to his senses, Keith looked up and was immediately greeted by the sight of Lance just…laying on top of him like it was no big deal. Pressing himself further back into the floor and trying very, _very_ hard to hide a blush, Keith stuttered out, “U-um, sorry.”

Lance didn’t look particularly upset about the situation, though. A smirk crept onto his face, and although Keith was sent reeling trying to figure out what that smirk meant with them in a position like this, he had greater things to worry about.

“Here ya go!” Lance chirped, taking the intact s’more and pushing it into Keith’s mouth while he was still flustered.

“Mmph!” Keith protested, but the treat was already in his mouth. His face scrunched up as he automatically started chewing, but the second his taste buds finally registered what was in his mouth, his expression softened.

Lance was right. These things they’d made, whatever they were, tasted really good. They were no s’mores, that much was certain, but perhaps they qualified as actual _space_ s’mores. Perhaps they’d made something completely new!

Satisfied that he’d gotten Keith to try it, Lance became more aware of his position and hurriedly retreated, scuffling off of Keith and pushing himself against the counter. “Uh…so, what do you think?”

“These are…good,” Keith breathed out in surprise, having just finished the chewy treat. “We made something good. I can’t believe it!”

The two devoured the remaining space s’mores in just a few minutes, and they would have taken far less time if they didn’t take so long to chew. Neither one brought up their…“fall,” to avoid the awkwardness that would inevitably follow, though it was fresh on both of their minds.

Basking in the aftertastes, Lance shoved the messy tray into a sink and started towards the doorway. “Well, I’m satisfied! Let’s go.”

“Where?” Keith was surprised. He’d expected Lance to want to make more, or do something else that would occupy his valuable sleeping time.

“Your room? I thought you’d wanna get back to sleeping. I can try going back to my room and sleeping, but those space s’mores have got me all hyped up!”

“I don’t think I can sleep,” Keith realized. “I’m wide awake after eating those things.”

Eyes widening in pleased surprise, Lance smiled. “Oh! Well, in that case…you wanna make more? That way the others can try some tomorrow.”

“May as well…”

“Well gee, Keith, no need to sound to overly enthusiastic about it.”

“I am enthusiastic!” Keith defended. “Just…internally. I may be awake, but it’s still past one A.M.”

Smirking and leaning back over the counter, Lance commented, “Whatever. I, for one, think this was another great bonding experience, wouldn’t you say?”

Keith stopped. “Wait. Another…I thought you didn’t remember our bonding moment.”

“Hmm?”

“The one where I cradled you in my arms? That bonding moment?”

Realizing what he’d inadvertently admitted, Lance leapt to retract his statement. “N-no, I…misspoke, that’s all. The bonding moment still didn’t happen.”

Keith knew when Lance was lying. “You totally remember, you liar.”

Blushing and at a loss, Lance chuckled and muttered, “Shut up.”

Neither of the paladins got a wink of sleep that night, though their newly-invented recipe for space s’mores served to keep them awake. After hours spent baking more space s’mores, their exhaustion did catch up to them, and they ended up falling asleep right there on the kitchen floor, leaning up against the wall below the oven.

Pidge and Hunk discovered the pair the next morning cuddling in the kitchen. After Pidge snapped a few pictures to immortalize the moment, they left the slumbering boys be. After all, they were having yet another bonding moment, Lance cradled softly in Keith’s arms once more.

_Thus ends the twenty-second day of Christmas._

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanna try space s'mores now. Alas, such is the curse of being a human confined to earth who also isn't in a cartoon about giant robot lions.


End file.
